


Metamorphosis

by ChakwayAllTheWay



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Confessions, Episode: s06e01 Equinox Part II, Episode: s06e02 Survival Instinct, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 07:09:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChakwayAllTheWay/pseuds/ChakwayAllTheWay
Summary: After the events of Equinox: Part I/II and Survival Instinct, delegates from the Markonian Outpost throw the Voyager crew a going away party. The command duo gets into a fight on the dance floor, leading Captain Janeway to drown her sorrows at the bar.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Manalyzer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manalyzer/gifts).



> A big thank you to Manalyzer for the beta and for keeping my characterization on point.

_Captain’s log_

_Stardate 53049.5_

Voyager _added another crewmember to its ranks today: Ensign Marika Wilkarah of the_ U.S.S. Excalibur _. What can I say? With the transfer of the Equinox five to our vessel, and now Wilkarah, it’s been a busy week._

_The Doctor successfully removed her implants, along with those of Lansor and P'Chan, and all three are determined to enjoy the few weeks they have left as true individuals. Wilkarah will spend the rest of her time here aboard Voyager. Lansor and P’Chan, on the other hand, have elected to stay in this sector meeting new people and exploring nature._

_They seem to have made peace with their circumstances. Surprisingly, it’s our other former drone who is struggling with the recent revelations. The Doctor informs me Seven is experiencing tremendous guilt over her decision eight years ago to forcibly link her subordinates back to the Collective. She told him, “I had no right to ‘play God’ with their lives the way I did.”_

_I know how she feels._

_\--_

The automatic doors swished open to reveal the eerie green glow of Cargo Bay 2, causing Captain Kathryn Janeway to wonder, once again, whether she’d ever get used to the sight of Borg technology on her ship. Shaking her head, she strode toward Seven’s alcove. There were more important things on her mind.

Seven, as usual, was working, no doubt trying to distract herself from her unexpected walk down memory lane. Janeway watched her protégé punch codes into a nearby console and frowned. Was this Borg efficiency or human avoidance? Or, even worse, a behavior she learned from a certain Starfleet captain?

Janeway cleared her throat. “Hello, Seven.”

“Captain,” the blonde responded with a curt nod.

“How are you?”

Seven took a shallow breath and continued working.

“I am well, thank you.” 

Janeway rested an arm on the console, halting Seven’s actions.

“It’s been a difficult couple of days,” the older woman prodded. “The Doctor says—”

“Whatever the Doctor may have told you, I am fine, Captain,” Seven stated.

Janeway noted the blonde’s flushed cheeks and suppressed a sympathetic smile. Human anatomy does little to hide frustration or embarrassment, especially for those with pale complexions.

“I’m sure you are,” she soothed. After a beat, she added, “But if you ever _do_ want to talk about what happened, I’m happy to listen.”

Janeway turned to leave. She made it halfway to the door when Seven’s unusually tentative voice stopped her.

“Captain… Have you ever regretted a decision you made and how it affected those under your command?”

Janeway’s mind flooded with images from earlier in the week: a terrified Noah Lessing and the look of disappointment—no, disgust—in Chakotay’s eyes. She swore she could hear the sickening whir of nucleogenic lifeforms scratching at the hull. 

“Yes,” she uttered and faced Seven.

“How did you overcome your feelings, your… guilt… over what you did?” the younger woman asked. 

_Good question_ , Janeway mused bitterly. She inhaled deeply and gathered her thoughts.

After a pause, she answered, “You do the only thing you can: make reparations for your actions and try to do better in the future.”

Seven cocked her head to the side, absorbing the advice her mentor shared with her. “I believe I have made reparations by helping Marika and the others reclaim their individuality. But then why do I still feel remorse for what I did?”

Janeway crossed toward her protégé.

“Righting a wrong doesn’t mean you won’t regret the actions that got you there in the first place, Seven,” she said. “But it’s worth doing anyway, in the end.”

The blonde eyed her with uncertainty. “How so?”

“It makes the guilt more bearable knowing the ones you’ve hurt are given closure,” Janeway answered. “It’s the only way they—and you—can begin to heal.”

Seven’s shoulders relaxed. 

“Thank you, Captain,” she said. “Your words have helped me better understand what I am experiencing.”

Janeway raised her hand and placed it gently on Seven’s shoulder. “Glad I could be of service,” she said with a sad smile.

Suddenly, a familiar, overly enthusiastic voice interrupted, “Neelix to Captain Janeway.”

“Go ahead, Neelix.”

“Captain, I’ve just received a message from the head alien delegation on the Markonian outpost,” the Talaxian informed her. “It appears our friends would like to host a goodbye party to send us off in style.” 

Janeway and Seven shared a pained look. 

“That sounds lovely, Mr. Neelix,” Janeway said. “I’ll leave it to you and Commander Chakotay to handle all the details.”

The comm line remained silent for several seconds before he responded.

“Captain, the delegation has strongly suggested it be a cocktail party similar to those held on Earth,” Neelix said. “Apparently, they were quite taken with human evening wear while combing _Voyager’s_ database.”

Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stop the headache forming behind her eyes.

“Perhaps Mr. Paris could be of assistance,” she continued. “He has ample experience planning parties.”

Again, silence.

“Pardon me, Captain, but are you sure that’s wise?” Neelix asked. “I believe the delegation is looking for something a little more refined than what I’ve heard referred to as a college frat party. I was hoping you could offer some guidance, since you’ve attended quite a few Starfleet functions.”

Janeway rolled her eyes, eliciting an amused smirk from Seven.

“I’ll stop by the mess hall on my way back to the bridge,” she said with a sigh.

“Oh, thank you, Captain! I’m sure this will be an affair to remember!” Neelix squawked.

Janeway massaged the back of her neck and then shrugged at Seven’s skeptical glance.

“A captain’s work is never done,” she said and made her exit.


	2. Chapter 2

Helping to plan the party proved less tedious than Janeway expected. In fact, it was a welcome distraction from the acidic cocktail of guilt and shame roiling in her stomach. She had avoided the ones she hurt all week. Lessing was easy. Chakotay, not so much. Their conversations on the bridge were the epitome of professionalism and nothing more.

 _So much for taking my own advice_ , Janeway thought as she dressed for the evening in her quarters. Upon discovering Ransom’s dirty, little secret, she had been hell-bent on stopping him, blinded by righteousness and rage.

It wasn’t until after her fellow captain sacrificed himself that she fully realized why she was so angry. Unlike her, Ransom didn’t just flirt with temptation—he took what he wanted, protocol and morals be damned. And, deep down, she envied him. It scared the shit out of her.

Janeway eyed herself in the mirror, critiquing the outfit she replicated for the occasion: a classic, little black dress.

 _Black like my soul_ , she mused darkly as she fussed with the off-the-shoulder straps and adjusted the fitted skirt, which fell just above her knees. The dress was too revealing for a Starfleet captain, but this wasn’t really a Starfleet function. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Glancing at the chronometer, she cursed the time. She hurriedly slipped on her black satin pumps and finished fastening her diamond earrings. She was going to be late to her own party.

\--

Chakotay leaned against the bar, scanning the crowd. The Markonian delegates had truly outdone themselves for the occasion. With Neelix and Kathryn’s assistance, they’d turned Cargo Bay 1 into a stunning dining room with a dance floor and luminous blue-gold bar. Stylish matching accent lights scattered throughout the space created a pleasantly alluring atmosphere.

The former Maquis was ordering his first drink of the night when Lt. B’Elanna Torres slid into the seat next to him and let out a low whistle.

“I forgot how nicely you clean up, Chakotay,” B’Elanna said.

The tux he wore complemented his raven hair and golden-brown skin.

“Thanks,” Chakotay said with a smirk.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” the half-Klingon replied as she flagged down the bartender.

“That won’t be a problem,” Chakotay muttered. He tried to hide a grimace, but wasn’t quick enough.

“Chakotay, what’s wrong?” B’Elanna asked, her features softening.

The bartender arrived and placed two drinks in front of them. Chakotay subtly sniffed at the smoking, pink concoction and then took a long sip.

“I’m not really in the mood to celebrate. It’s been a… difficult week.”

B’Elanna quirked an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“OK… Well, try not to—”

B’Elanna stopped talking when Chakotay snapped to attention. He stood ramrod straight, eyes ablaze, staring at something in the distance.

“What is it?” she asked, swiveling in her seat.

At the Cargo Bay entrance stood Kathryn Janeway in a tight, black dress, her auburn hair swept into a sleek chignon. B’Elanna almost choked on her drink when she noticed the Captain’s short skirt and pale, shapely legs.

“Qi-yah!” she swore in her mother tongue and wiped the liquor off her lips.

They watched the Captain survey the room in silence. Then, another figure walked up behind her.

“Holy shit is right,” Chakotay said.

Noah Lessing had just entered the room.


	3. Chapter 3

“Captain Janeway!” Lessing exclaimed, his expression a mixture of surprise and fear.

Janeway turned at the unfamiliar voice and froze.

“Mr. Lessing,” she said, trying to mask her own surprise with aloofness. “What are you doing here?”

At that moment, Chakotay appeared next to her. “I invited him.”

She remained silent for several seconds, the muscles of her jaw rippling under her skin.

“Well,” she finally stated, “enjoy your evening, crewman.”

Lessing nodded and high-tailed it toward the bar.

Janeway watched him leave and then hissed, “What the hell were you thinking?”

A hot bubble of anger formed in Chakotay’s chest, threatening to burst. He willed himself to remain calm.

“I’m trying to gain his trust, _Captain_ ,” he said in a low voice. “To show him that there’s a place for him on _Voyager_. It’s a long journey back to the Alpha Quadrant.”

“To gain _his_ trust,” Janeway scoffed. “He should be earning ours.”

Chakotay attempted to massage the tension out of his brow.

“Trust is a two-way street, Kathryn,” he said flatly. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“You’re out of line, commander,” Janeway barked and made to push past him, but Chakotay seized her by the arm.

“Kathryn, wait—”

Suddenly lively music filled the air, announcing the arrival of the head delegate to the Markonian Outpost. Zarb Klep, a portly alien with simian-like features, stood in the center of the dance floor with a much thinner and more attractive female alien on his arm.

“Esteemed guests, thank you so much for attending our farewell party!” Zarb Klep boomed. “I believe I can speak for all Markonian residents when I say we’ve thoroughly enjoyed sharing our culture and traditions with the _Voyager_ crew.”

The delegate turned to a group of musicians sitting near the stage and made a flamboyant gesture.

“As a token of our gratitude, Captain Janeway, I’d like to invite you and your second in command to have the first dance of the evening,” he declared. “Normally, this honor is bestowed upon leaders and their mates. However, I’m happy to make an exception for you.”

The shimmering blue spotlight that engulfed the plump official shifted and landed on Janeway and Chakotay, who was still clutching her upper arm. The two jerked away from each other like teenagers found necking in the back of a car.

Janeway forced her lips into a smile and thanked the delegate for his kindness. As the music started back up, she turned to face her de facto “mate” for the evening. Chakotay stared at her in shock.

“Do I need to lead, Commander?”

Still dazed, Chakotay shook his head. They walked to the dance floor and began to dance, a jumble of stiff backs, sharp elbows, and ungainly steps.

After a painfully awkward period, Chakotay’s movements became more fluid. His hand slid lower down Janeway’s back.

“Kathryn, relax,” he whispered. “Trust me.”

“I’ve forgotten how to do that, remember?” she bit back.

Chakotay sighed and pulled her closer. His familiar scent and the warmth of his body acted like a calming drug on the stubborn redhead.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” he said.

Janeway’s eyes fluttered shut. “Neither do I.”

“Then let’s move past this.”

“I want to, more than you know.”

Chakotay leaned back to look at Janeway’s face. When her eyes opened, he was surprised to see them shining with tears. The unaccustomed show of vulnerability both warmed and broke his heart.

“What’s stopping you?” he whispered into her ear.

Janeway opened her mouth to respond, but then clamped it shut. Her body grew rigid once more.

“Chakotay, you need to stop undermining my authority,” she stated in her best command tone.

His dark head jerked back like he’d been struck in the face.

“What?”

“You’ve done it with Lessing twice now.”

Chakotay’s hands dug into her body, making Janeway realize, not for the first time, how easily he could over power her.

“I didn’t know inviting someone to a party was against regulations,” he grated.

“No, but murdering innocent lifeforms to get home faster is,” she spat.

“He was following orders, Kathryn.”

“That’s no excuse! Starfleet officers are supposed to uphold the standards of the Federation, not blindly follow orders.”

“But that’s what _you_ want, isn’t it? To have me do whatever you command, no questions asked.”

“This isn’t about us, Chakotay.”

“Then why are you still angry, Kathryn? Ransom’s dead. He did the right thing, in the end. You won.”

“I don’t know!” Janeway exclaimed as the music stopped. Her voice ricocheted around the silent ballroom, drawing all eyes to their tense figures.

The emotional conversation had left both of them panting for air. Chakotay removed his hands from Janeway’s body.

“Well, I’m not going to be your punching bag while you’re figuring it out,” he growled and left the dance floor.

Janeway watched him leave, the gnawing guilt sinking its teeth once more into her stomach.

She closed her ears to the murmuring crowd and headed toward the bar.

 _What a mess_ , she thought as she signaled the bartender.

“What would you like?”

“Something strong,” Janeway grumbled, glancing over her shoulder to look for Chakotay, who’d all but vanished from the banquet hall.

She sighed in frustration and turned back to the bartender. Her breath caught in her throat. The alien standing before her was unlike any Janeway had ever seen. Its skin was a pearly, iridescent white and changed colors depending on how the light hit it. The ridges on its brow and head reminded her of the conical seashells she’d find on the shores of the San Francisco Bay. Its eyes flashed glittering amber.

“Do you desire something sweet or bitter?” the alien asked.

Janeway arched an eyebrow.

The alien laughed. It was a deep, melodious sound, like the bow of a cello bouncing on its strings.

“Bitter it is,” the creature said and started making a drink.

Janeway eased herself onto the barstool, hypnotized by the alien’s movements. Within seconds, a sparkling, cold beverage was placed before her. She took a long sip, flooding her mouth with smoke and spice, and licked her lips.

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“That is because I did not give it to you,” the alien said with what Janeway assumed was a smile. “My people call me Metis.”

“Nice to meet you, Metis. My name is—”

“I know who you are, Kathryn Janeway of the starship _Voyager_ ,” Metis said good-naturedly. “Your drinks are on the house tonight.”

“Good. I’m going to need them,” Janeway muttered.

“Well... enjoy, Captain,” Metis said and left to help another guest.

\--

The cocktails proved more potent than Janeway originally thought. It’d been ages since she’d had anything but cider or Synthehol. But by the third drink, she just didn’t give a damn anymore.

The Doctor, however, did. As the last of the partygoers departed, the hologram approached the bar.

“I think it’s time to call it a night, Captain,” he stated as delicately as possible. “Excess alcohol consumption can cause a variety of health problems, not the least of which is a nasty hangover.”

Janeway shot him a death glare over the rim of her glass. “Thank you for the unsolicited medical advice, Doctor, but I’m quite happy where I am.”

The EMH opened his mouth to protest, but Metis cut him off.

“I will ensure that she makes it back to her quarters safely.”

Janeway toasted her new friend, sloshing some of her drink onto the bar. The hologram grimaced, but after a brief hesitation exited the Cargo Bay, leaving her alone with Metis.

“He’s such a buzzkill,” Janeway declared and then covered her mouth. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did,” Metis said, wiping down the bar with a rag.

Janeway chuckled at her uncaptainly faux pas.

“It is not often that you do that,” the alien stated.

“What?”

“Speak your mind.”

Janeway pursed her lips. “I’m in command of a Federation starship traveling thousands of lightyears away from home. Of course I speak my mind. I have to.”

The alien bowed its head respectfully. “Forgive me.”

After a beat, the creature added, “Then it is your heart that is longing to speak.”

“Excuse me?” Janeway demanded.

“I mean no offense, Captain,” Metis continued calmly. “I observed you and your mate dancing earlier this evening. The two of you were very clearly arguing about something.”

“He’s not my mate,” Janeway spat.

Metis snorted at her statement. “Ah. Perhaps that is what you were arguing about?”

The redhead cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“Your second in command obviously wishes to be your mate,” the alien said.

Janeway’s face flooded with heat; it was an unsettling mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Not long ago, she would’ve put money on the alien’s observation being true. Hell, she’d even done so once or twice in Tom Paris’s infamous betting pool. But now, the possibility of Chakotay having romantic feelings for her seemed like a passing dream.

Janeway rolled the ice in her glass around several times before answering. “If you must know, we were arguing about his decision to undermine my authority.”

Metis reached forward to take her empty glass and replaced it with a steaming cup of coffee.

“The Emergency Medical Hologram just sent a message to the communications panel behind the bar. It said, ‘Coffee, black. Doctor’s orders,’” the alien explained.

“That’s a first,” Janeway replied with a chuckle and took a sip of caffeinated bliss.

After a few moments of companionable silence, she continued, “Chakotay, my second in command, invited a subordinate to the party without my permission.”

“And you were jealous of his choice?”

“What? No!” Janeway laughed derisively. “No, it wasn’t a date. He completely disregarded my decision to punish the crewman, who I recently stripped of rank for helping his previous captain commit genocide.”

The alien absorbed the information and replied, “Someone who participates in the execution of innocents does not deserve to enjoy a party.”

“That’s what I said!” Janeway exclaimed, gesturing triumphantly.

“I do not understand why your commander would invite such a person to _Voyager_ ’s sendoff. What was his reasoning?”

Janeway’s exuberance faded slightly. The change in her expression did not go unnoticed.

“He… wanted to gain the crewman’s trust,” she muttered.

Metis waited patiently for her to continue.

“I used some _unconventional_ questioning tactics to pry information out of Crewman Lessing,” Janeway said. “We were trying to capture his former captain and to prevent more deaths, on both sides. The lifeforms had started to retaliate—no, _defend_ themselves—against their aggressors by attacking our ships.

“I put Lessing in one of our cargo bays—this one, actually—and then I lifted the shields to force him to talk,” she continued. “I told Chakotay that Lessing would break before the aliens ruptured the hull, but he didn’t believe me… he didn’t trust me. Instead, he let Lessing go. So I relieved him of duty.”

The alien bartender contemplated Janeway’s words. “It must have hurt you, losing Chakotay’s trust like that.”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “He directly circumvented my orders.”

Metis nodded thoughtfully. “And the other captain. What happened to him?”

“Ransom? He realized what he was doing was wrong and sacrificed himself to keep _Voyager_ safe.”

“So he redeemed himself, in the end.”

“Yes, but he wouldn’t have had to do that if he’d stuck to protocol.”

“Protocol?”

“All Starfleet officers take an oath to uphold our Federation’s ethical codes. That includes not attacking other species without being provoked and not interfering with their natural development and progression.”

Metis poured more coffee into Janeway’s cup. “And what does your ethical code say about military coercion?”

Janeway’s eyes narrowed in distaste. “Are you comparing what I did to Lessing with Ransom’s blatant, systematic murdering spree?”

The alien remained silent.

“I wasn’t going to let Lessing get killed,” she said in an icy tone.

“From what you have told me, Crewman Lessing didn’t know that, and neither did Chakotay.”

“Chakotay knows me better than that. At least, he did.”

“I believe the real question is whether or not you know yourself, Kathryn Janeway.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have expressed anger toward Chakotay and Ransom, but I believe you are also angry with yourself. Why?”

Janeway’s shoulders slumped. “If we’re going to have this conversation, I’ll need more than just coffee.”

Metis chuckled and grabbed a bottle from behind the bar. The alien poured some of its contents into her cup.

Janeway lifted it in a toast. “To liquid courage.”

She took a gulp and then spoke. “I _am_ angry with myself. I’m angry because I envy Ransom.”

The alien’s eyes widened.

“I know,” Janeway replied. “It surprised me, too, once I recognized the feeling for what it was, but I understand it. Ransom saw a way to get his people home and he took it. He didn’t worry about what Starfleet would say, he didn’t agonize over regulations. He just did it.”

Metis grunted in disbelief. “Surely you would not kill dozens of innocent lifeforms just to get your people home more quickly?”

“No!”

“Then why do you resent him?” the alien prodded.

Janeway took another slug of her spiked coffee.

“Unless… unless there is something else you want,” Metis ventured. “Something else that goes against your regulations, or _someone_.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Janeway muttered.

“No?” Metis asked, walking around the bar. As the alien moved, its skin began to glow and ripple. The kaleidoscopic colors swirled together and transformed into black, white, and golden honey.

“Your lips say one thing, but your heart says another,” Metis said in Chakotay’s clear baritone.

“What the hell?!” Janeway gasped and jumped to her feet. Before her stood a perfect clone of her second in command.

Chakotay-Metis rushed to her side to keep her from toppling over. The hands that caught her had the same warmth as those of the real Chakotay. Despite herself, Janeway marveled at the carbon copy now holding her in his muscular arms.

“You’re a shape-shifter,” Janeway sputtered.

“Where I come from, we prefer the term metamorph,” Chakotay-Metis told her.

The jostling had knocked a few locks of hair loose from Janeway’s updo. The clone reached out and gently smoothed them behind her ear. His thumb lingered, drawing small circles on her cheekbone. The gesture stirred in Janeway years of pent up emotion.

“What do you want most in the world?” Chakotay-Metis asked.

Janeway swallowed the lump in her throat. “To get my people home.”

“That is what the Captain wants. What does _Kathryn_ want?”

“You—I mean, him,” Janeway whispered. “I want Chakotay. I want him so badly sometimes it hurts.”

“Then why don’t you take me, Kathryn?” Chakotay-Metis said and gently lowered his lips to hers.

The kiss started off slow and then grew in speed and heat. Soon it became a clash of tongues and teeth. After what seemed like minutes, Janeway broke for air. Chakotay-Metis used his stubbled chin to nudge her face to the side and started feasting on her delicate neck. When he nipped at her shoulder, Janeway moaned. The guttural sound knocked her out of her aroused stupor.

“I can’t,” she panted.

“Why not?”

“Because protocol states...” Janeway paused for a moment.

 _What protocol?_ a drunk, little voice in her head demanded. _This isn’t really Chakotay. Being with him wouldn’t jeopardize anything._

Janeway gazed at the doppelganger's face; his slicked back hair and artful tattoo, his tawny skin and soulful eyes.

 _One night. I can give myself this one night_ , she thought. _He’s not Chakotay, but he’s the closest I’ll ever get to the real thing._

Decision made, she all but devoured his mouth.

Fueled by lust, she pushed him back a step and started undoing the buttons of his tux. Her questing hands traveled under his jacket and along his chest. He felt so _real_ —exactly how she dreamt Chakotay would feel.

Chakotay-Metis pressed her small frame up against the bar.

“Is this what you want?” he asked.

“Yes,” Janeway breathlessly replied and gave into the illusion.

She planted her hands on the bar behind her and tried to push herself up. Always the gentleman, Chakotay lifted her the rest of the way.

“Touch me,” she said. “Please.”

Chakotay’s masculine hands trailed down her arms and looped back up to caress her breasts. His thumbs circled her nipples over the cloth of her dress, causing Kathryn to hiss.

“More,” she begged. “I need more.”

She impatiently pushed at the straps of her dress. The bodice bunched at her waist, she next unhooked her bra. Chakotay bent his head down to take one of her rosy peaks into his mouth and lathed it with his tongue. He pinched the other nipple between his fingers.

She threaded her hands through Chakotay’s hair and pulled his face up to kiss him once more. As they kissed, Kathryn guided one of Chakotay’s hands down to her thighs. She shifted and raised her skirt to give him better access to the place she most wanted touched.

His hand slid up her leg and landed on her center. He stroked her through the damp, satin fabric and then pushed it aside, plunging his fingers into her slick core.

“Oh god!” Kathryn exclaimed.

He pumped in and out for several seconds, eliciting breathy gasps of pleasure, but then withdrew.

“Please, don’t stop,” she moaned.

“Lie back,” Chakotay whispered into her ear.

Kathryn must have showed uncertainty in her expression because the facade of her former Maquis flashed a dimpled smile.

“Trust me,” he said.

She felt her eyes prick with tears at his gentle request, so like her real Angry Warrior.

“Always,” she replied and laid down on the bar.

As she stared at the electric blue ceiling, she could feel Chakotay removing her shoes and underwear. He pushed her skirt up and carefully positioned her legs over his shoulders. Then he lowered his face to her mound. His tongue parted her folds and stroked upward to play with her clit.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of a man’s tongue on her body after so many years, Kathryn tried to grasp the bar with her hands, but it was too slippery. Finally, she gave up and pushed herself onto her elbows so she could watch Chakotay make her come.

His raven-haired head bobbed between her legs, lapping her into a frenzy. At one point, he glanced up and locked eyes with her as he worked. It was so erotic, Kathryn’s eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed onto the bar. The stimulation, and visual of Chakotay being the one doing it, propelled her quickly to the edge.

“Close, so close!” she whimpered.

Her climax swirled in her belly, ready to explode. She just needed a little more. Disappointingly, she felt Chakotay’s tongue leave her. But before she could open her mouth to object, it pushed into her core _and_ wrapped around her clit.

“Oh, my god!” Kathryn shrieked.

The split tongues simultaneously drove into her slick heat and tugged on her hard nub, causing her to thrash against the bar in pure extacy. As her orgasm crested and washed over her in powerful waves, she cried out, “Oh, _Chakotay_! I love you!”

\--

Janeway lay on the bar, her throat raw from screaming. After catching her breath, she rose to a seated position. She watched as her Angry Warrior dissolved before her eyes into the alien form of Metis.

“You need to tell _him_ that, Kathryn,” the creature said. “Loving your second in command is not a crime. And a code that considers it such is not a code worth following.”

Janeway silently tugged the bodice of her dress back up over her chest and started looking for her bra. Metis got to it first.

The alien handed the garment to her and added, more gently, “It takes great courage to tell those we love when they are wrong. You are lucky to have someone who cares for you as deeply as Chakotay does.”

Janeway nodded dumbly and grabbed her underwear off the floor. The impact of what she’d just done was starting to sink in. She could feel the shame blooming in her stomach. Once fully dressed, she stumbled toward the Cargo Bay exit.

“Would you like me to escort you to your quarters?” Metis asked.

“No!” Janeway exclaimed and spun around. She hastily smoothed her hair into something presentable. “I’d prefer to keep this between the two of us. Please.”

Metis bowed respectfully. “Always, Kathryn.”

Janeway strode out of the room.

 _I think I’m going to be sick_.


	4. Chapter 4

As the Doctor predicted, Kathryn Janeway woke up with a nasty hangover. Less predictable, though, were the accompanying fever-dream images of her first officer eating her out on top of a bar in Cargo Bay 1.

Not willing to face the smug EMH, Janeway replicated an antidote hypospray herself, along with a gigantic mug of coffee. She was mortified to learn that its bitter taste, usually so pleasurable and comforting, just reminded her more of the illicit encounter with Metis.

What the hell was _wrong_ with her? She’d practically begged an alien posing as Chakotay to fuck her in one of her ship’s cargo bays. It was a miracle no one walked in on them during the act. She was a Starfleet captain, damnit. She had to lead by example.

 _Lead by example._ Those words continued to play in Janeway’s head as she entered the turbolift to the bridge. Several decks up, she told the computer to halt the ’lift. 

“Janeway to Commander Chakotay.”

“Chakotay here.”

“I’m going to be a little late to the bridge this morning. I have some personal business to attend to.”

The comm was silent for several seconds.

“Aye, Captain,” Chakotay finally responded.

That conversation over, Janeway ordered the ’lift to the lower decks for an even more difficult one.

\--

Chakotay's quarters  
2100 hours

Chakotay sat on the floor, attempting to contact his Spirit Guide. The emotional strain of battling the Equinox, and his ongoing fight with Kathryn, had put him in a dark place. And then, to top it all off, she’d spent the entire week avoiding him again. Normally, the rejection would’ve hurt, but all he felt right now was relief. That hurt even more.

He desperately needed to restore balance to his soul.

 _What’s happened to us?_ he pondered.

It was a question he’d asked numerous times over the past week, to little avail. He hoped to get an answer from his wise animal friend, but she, too, seemed to be avoiding him. 

Chakotay let out a frustrated sigh and pushed himself off the floor. He was heading to bed when the chime to his quarters sounded. It was probably B’Elanna coming to check on him again.

“Come,” he called as he padded to the door. Perhaps he could use a late-night pep talk from his favorite half-Klingon.

The face that greeted him on the other side, however, was ridgeless and immediately set his heart to racing.

“Kathryn!” Chakotay exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Kathryn smiled softly. “Hello, Chakotay.” 

Her smile faltered when she noticed what he was wearing or, more aptly put, _not_ wearing. The former-Maquis stood in the doorway in just a pair of sweatpants.

“Have I disturbed you?”

“I was about to go to bed.”

“Oh.”

Chakotay noted her equally casual, albeit less revealing, attire: a lovely, coffee-colored sweater and cream pants. The absence of stark red and black softened his defenses. 

“Would you like to come in?” he offered.

Kathryn nodded with appreciation and stepped past him.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked politely as he followed her inside.

“No—I’ve had enough alcohol to last me the next several dozen parsecs,” she replied with a self-deprecating chuckle. “But thank you.”

They stood in awkward silence, glancing around the room—at the stars, his sand paintings—anywhere but each other’s faces. 

“What can I do for you, Captain?” Chakotay asked. 

“Nothing. You’ve already done so much,” Kathryn said.

She took a deep breath, looked straight into his eyes, and added, “I’ve come to say I’m sorry for my behavior last week with the Equinox and... last night... at the party.”

Her unexpected apology and heartfelt candor caught Chakotay off guard. Kathryn Janeway didn’t often admit to wrongdoings, unless it had to do with the Caretaker and his array.

“I appreciate that, Kathryn. Really, I do,” Chakotay told her. “But I think that apology belongs to Noah Lessing.”

“I owe both of you apologies. I spoke with Mr. Lessing this morning. You’re second on my list,” she stated. “Can we sit down, please?”

“Yes… sorry,” Chakotay said, gesturing to his sofa.

Kathryn gave him a crooked grin and they both took a seat.

Once settled, she turned to him and said, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Chakotay. I’m incredibly lucky to have you to keep me honest out here. I was so consumed with stopping Ransom that I lost sight of why we were going after him in the first place.”

“It’s your duty to uphold the Prime Directive. But, in this case, you took that duty too far,” Chakotay stated. 

“You’re right. I wanted to stop him from taking innocent lives, and I did that by threatening harm on someone else’s life. Definitely not my greatest hour. If we were back in the Alpha Quadrant, I’d be facing a court martial right now.”

Chakotay didn’t try to deny it. Military coercion was a technique employed by the Cardassians and, occasionally, the Maquis, not Starfleet and certainly not Kathryn Janeway. This was the woman who stranded her people 70,000 lightyears from home to save an alien race she hardly knew.

Kathryn’s husky voice broke into his thoughts. “Last night you asked me why I’m still angry. The truth is, I’m not mad at Ransom anymore. I’m mad at myself.”

“For what happened with Lessing?”

“For that, and for letting Ransom get under my skin. The truth is, I envied him, and not just because he found a way to get his people home faster. I resented him because he was no longer tethered by Starfleet regulations. He saw what he wanted and he took it.”

As she uttered those final words, Kathryn’s gaze flitted down to Chakotay’s bare chest. When she looked back up, her eyes were filled with a hungry longing that took the former Maquis’ breath away.

“Kathryn?” he stuttered.

“I want you, Chakotay,” she told him. “I have for a long time, and I don’t care what Starfleet or anyone else thinks about it. I’m tired of living my life bound to protocol and burdened with parameters. The question is, do you still want me?”

Chakotay stared at her, mouth slightly agape. Slowly, his slack-jaw expression transformed into a smile of delight.

“Always,” he said.

They sat there grinning at each other until Kathryn’s eyes shifted to Chakotay’s gorgeous mouth. Slowly, she leaned in and placed her lips tentatively on his. Their kiss was tender, an intimate bearing of souls for two people so accustomed to wearing the mask of command.

Eventually, the couple broke for air. Their faces rested against each other, forehead to forehead. Kathryn placed a delicate hand on his chest.

“I love you, Chakotay,” she whispered. "Thank you for having to the courage to tell me when I'm wrong.

“I love you, too, Kathryn. It also takes courage to admit when you're wrong."

Chakotay leaned back to look at his beautiful Woman Warrior and cupped her face in his hand.

“Where did this all come from? Last night you could barely stand being next to me.”

She blushed self-consciously. “Let’s just say someone licked—I mean, kicked—some sense into me.”

Chakotay arched an eyebrow at the odd phrase.

“Don’t ask,” Kathryn said. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” he replied.

“Me too,” she said, and leaned in for another kiss.


End file.
